


I can't SAVE you

by BeyondtheKilljoy



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Flowerfell, please don't read without knowing flowerfell, this is a flowerfell au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 11:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5966500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeyondtheKilljoy/pseuds/BeyondtheKilljoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The SAVE star, or maybe Sans, something held Frisk's soul to the world. Something kept them there, unseen and unheard, even after their destiny was fulfilled. Even after they...</p><p>Now all they want is for Sans to heal.</p><p>***This is a Flowerfell AU, which was created by sanei, who can be found here: https://underfart-snas.tumblr.com/ ***</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can't SAVE you

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, friend ole buddy ole pal friend chummy chum chum pal buddy pal friend friend pal I don't mean to be rude but if you don't know anything about flowerfell chum pal amigo buddy home slice bread slice well then I suggest you go check it out unless you want to have a bad time and gee buddy pal chum friendly friend friend pal amigo wouldn't that be unfortunate? do you really wanna have a feels-sical bad time my friendly friend amigo chummy chum pal? huh? no? then also go check out Overgrowth, by sociopathicarchangel. thanks my buddy pal pal chum pal buddy bud amigo friend pal friend friend bud
> 
> Also, I am on tumblr! Same name, different pieces of work that will NOT be posted on AO3

Frisk can feel themselves leaving their body, can see in a fuzzy half-remembered way that sight used to be, as they float up and away from it. Sans holds onto them, holds them close to his crying body. A pang of bittersweet regret shoots through them, and they realize that the afterlife doesn’t mean that emotions are gone. The flowers on their body also stay, but they seem to be just a part of them now, not an actual hinderance in any form now.

Sans keeps crying, and Asgore looks like he may finally understand where he went wrong. Asriel had taken one look at Frisk’s empty shell of a body and had planted themselves away. They hoped he found a place to peacefully grieve. Frisk knows they did they right thing, knows that this was the only way to show the monsters that violence wasn’t the way to a happy ending.

Frisk thinks they’ll keep on floating, going up for as long as they need to to get to the great beyond, until they hit some type of wall. Their very essence feels like it’s tearing apart, as if each piece of them is trying to find a different direction to move. They shove themselves down, just by the thought of getting away, and the feeling leaves.

They pant, moving their eyes every direction to figure out where it came from. From Sans’ kneeling form, a golden glint catches their gaze and they finally realize. The SAVE star, the last time they placed their memories in it. Was a piece of them in there, grounding them?

Frisk floats, halfway between the ceiling and the ground, mindful to keep away from the unseen wall. Asgore eventually comes over and tries to comfort Sans, almost being killed for it. Watching Sans call his magic to carelessly end everything Frisk had worked for made their mouth taste vile. At the last minute, he seemed to realize what he was about to do, and instead held their body closer to him.

“I’m sorry.” Asgore’s deep voice rang through the throne room. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He breaks them, and Frisk can see who they really were - a kind man with a lost heart. “I am so sorry. Please, please forgive me. I’m sorry. Please.” He sinks to the ground in front of Sans, sobbing his apologies.

Frisk knows it hurts, it hurts to watch the two cry over them. They want to come close and say that it was going to be alright. Everything would be right now. Instead, they float in between the great beyond and their soul, feeling lost on how to help anymore.  
\--  
When they leave, Frisk follows Sans. They move too far behind the dangling, glimmering, SAVE chained on his neck and they begin to glitch into something awfully painful. Asgore collects their soul just as gently as Sans collects their body.

He buries them while everyone is still underground. Asgore told everyone about the last soul, but he also told them about how it was collected. He laments the loss of their life, how their kindness was met with hate, their mercy met with violence. Sans stands silent next to him the entirety of the time. Asgore decrees that their kindness will be the example for monsters in the aboveground, that the war will not happen.

Frisk smiles, knowing that they did something good. They move to touch Sans on the shoulder, to smile up at his face, and tell him they were right. Their hand cuts right through him, and he shudders, drawing up his sweater around his frame. The coat that Frisk wore since Waterfall hangs from one of his hands.

He won’t put it on, despite being chilled to the bone. He had told Asriel, when he had popped back up a few hours later, that the coat wasn’t his anymore. Asriel was the only reason that it wasn’t buried with their body, urging Sans to keep it as a keepsake.

Asriel also came with Sans to bury them, at the front of the ruins. Frisk loved the spot, underneath thousands of the buttercups that littered their very body, that broke their fall to the underground all those years ago. Toriel had cried for a few minutes when she discovered them in the ruins, had cried that they weren’t the one to put the child out of their misery, to know that the child had to suffer, but eventually she allowed them to bury Frisk quietly.

Frisk stood a little off to the side, avoiding looking at their body. They were still a little put-off by seeing themselves so...lifeless. Their heart felt warm as Toriel stayed until the process was done. She may have tried to kill them, and kill them dozens of times, but they knew she was just doing what she thought was best. They felt no anger towards her, and hoped that one day she would learn to smile without worry in her eyes and laugh without an edge to it.

They hoped that one day she would know that misery for children was necessary for life, and not a reason to end it.  
\--  
Sans came back to where they were buried the day everyone was leaving the underground. Frisk followed, of course, they were always with Sans now. It quickly became saddening, when he stopped speaking, avoiding any monster that would want to have a conversation with him. His nights were filled with fitful sleeping, and Frisk not knowing how to help.

They discovered that they no longer needed sleep and spent those hours exploring the boundaries of the mysterious wall, and trying to put all their energy in pulling the SAVE star off of Sans. They didn’t have enough magic to grab anything real, or the willpower to do it. They weren’t ready to leave him, not yet, but they knew this wasn’t right. They weren’t supposed to be trapped like this.

Some nights they would read the books that Sans had littered around his room. They didn’t know enough about quantum physics to understand what that book said, but tried to find enjoyment in those pictures anyway. Frisk also found the joke books, scattered in different places, and read them hungrily.

Whenever Sans left, which was usually to journey to the ruins, Frisk would listen in to other monsters’ conversations. They would say the jokes out loud softly that fit into the context, imagining what the monsters would say if they heard them. They tried to think of the best, pretend that Sans would say them to the passerbys. It made them laugh so hard they started to cry. And then it made them cry, because it wasn’t funny that Sans was no longer Sans.

The last day, the last day for the underground, he did speak. His voice came out quiet, rough. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Frisk felt their throat close up. He sat down on the flowers gently, the phase of tearing them out and screaming at the sky seemingly passed. For a while he just lay there, allowing himself to drift in and out of sleep. It was peaceful, in the sense that he was calm and Frisk had his words playing on repeat.

“Frisk?” That wasn’t Sans. Frisk snapped their gaze from the sleeping skeleton, slowly looking out and away from the buttercups. They sigh, feeling incredibly lonely all of the sudden. It must have been a trick of the wind, a new way their mind could play with them.

Something brushes their sleeve. “Frisk? It’s you?”

They jump, turning around to look at whoever this person was. They could see Frisk, they knew Frisk was still here. The person in front of them wore a green and yellow striped sweater, and had the palest skin that Frisk ever saw, besides two perfectly rounded and rosy cheeks. They looked like death. “What are you doing still here?”

And then Frisk realized the voice, it was the voice from their head. Don’t give up. Stay determined. You are the hope. “Who are you?” Frisk asked them, stepping back slightly. The person didn’t look like they came to harm Frisk, and they never were hateful when inside Frisk’s head.

Oh, no. Frisk was going crazy being alone. They were starting to imagine up faces for voices. “I’m...I’m Chara.” The person in front of them said hesitantly. “I was with you during your journey, for the most part.”

“But you’re a person.”

“I’m a spirit. That was kept here by unfinished business.” Chara smiled sadly, before brightening. “But you fixed everything. You saved everyone, Frisk. What are you still doing here?”

“What are you still doing here?” Frisk mimicked back.

“I was coming to say goodbye to you… well, your grave.” Chara looked away for a second. “And thank you. Thank you, so much, Frisk.”

“You’re welcome.” Frisk blinked back, seeing the kindness and gratitude in Chara’s eyes. They had been blind for so long, in the underground for so long, they forgot what returned kindness could look like. They knew what it felt like, they remembered Sans’ every act of kindness. “I think I’m still here because of the SAVE.”

Chara looked over at the skeleton, and Frisk chanced a look back as well. Sans was sitting up now in the flowers, plucking a few petals from them. He looked so sad, even with the smile permanent on his face.

“Knock knock.” Frisk’s heart stopped. He hadn’t joked since...He stopped making jokes.

“Are you sure it’s not because of the skeleton wearing the SAVE star?” Chara prodded gently. “Sometimes, the will of others can hold us past our time.”

Sans paused for a moment, as if waiting for Frisk to say something. “Flower.”

“How can I help him move on?” Frisk turned to look back at Chara, who seemed to be fading more than before. All of their colors were slowly dimming.

They smiled, looking sad. “Give it time, and he will learn. He will learn how to love you enough to let go.” Chara’s voice was fading too. Frisk knew they must be going to the great beyond, the place where they themselves couldn’t go yet.

Frisk looked back at Sans, who had red tears threatening to overspill at any moment. Their chest felt like it was being squeezed painful, their eyes stinging from trying to stop from crying. “Flower you today...sweetheart?”  
\--  
On the surface, everyone lived close. There was a world to explore, and yet all the monsters seemed content to spend their days together. Toriel slowly healed, through the constant love and assurance of her husband. Both of them planted flowers for Chara and tended lovingly to the garden.

Asriel spent most of his days in a pot, on the porch watching his parents. The sun made him feel like all the suffering was worth it. He tried his best to show kindness, even when his mother had fits and pulled on his petals a little too tight. Asgore was always right there when he cried out, hushing both of them and carrying her to bed.

Papyrus and Undyne lived with the King as well, because they couldn’t be trusted yet. Asgore was reteaching them kindness, with Asriel’s help. They took up cooking together to bond and learn how to redirect their rage. Frisk loved sitting in the kitchen as they screamed at spaghetti.

Sans stayed too, but that was mainly because Asriel demanded he did. Frisk was happy to be able to be near those whom they wished to hold a friendship with. They loved watching them grow, but couldn’t help but feel lonely among them. Sans seemed to be left out as well, feigning sleep almost every time someone wanted to interact with him.

It was strange to watch Papyrus thaw and grow slowly more concerned for his brother.  
\--  
Sans got a job. Frisk knew he had been looking for a while, even though he didn’t need money. The King and Queen had enough gold for all the monsters to slip into society slowly. Frisk thinks that he just wanted a good reason to be out of the house. It was nice for them as well, because they grew tired of the house.

He manages to get a job as a performer in a little bar. Frisk finds the place quaint, because the bartender reminds them of Grillby and makes sure no one drinks too much. The customers almost remind them of the customers at Grillby’s, but that’s probably them being too sentimental. Sometimes Papyrus comes with Mettaton to watch Sans perform, which stresses him out, but it makes Frisk warm. They hope the hobby and encouragement help Sans.

He still comes every week to Frisk’s grave. He still lays in the flowers for a few hours, still says a corny joke or two sometimes. He still says hello and goodbye, as if he knew that they stood right next to him while he tortures himself. He still calls them sweetheart.

Sans plays always the saddest, softest songs at the end of the night. Most of the customers are too tired or intoxicated to care. Frisk finds themselves dancing to the rhythm, trying not to cry and watching the star glint on his chest. They wonder if he knows how much power he holds. They wonder if he will ever learn to deal with his hurt.

Most nights Frisk is still dancing after the music is gone, just for something to do.  
\--  
It’s been a year. A year of being disconnected, a year of following their once-guide, a year since everyone left the underground. Sans moved into an apartment, eventually, unable to stand seeing Toriel and Asgore after they both smoothed out. They eventually opened up a school, the first where monsters and humans could go. It helps Toriel. Asriel spends a few nights out of the week with Sans. As does Papyrus, who now lives with Mettaton. They both had such loud personalities, when they were over, Frisk felt more like they were present than ever.

Undyne also moved away from the King and Queen, to live with Alphys, making the perfect pair. They really helped each other, something Frisk was eternally grateful for. However, it was hard to remember the feeling of grateful or anything when everyone was just out of reach. The biggest feeling they feel nowadays is bittersweet sadness.

It’s Christmas. Frisk watches as Sans shuffles himself out of bed, shuffles over to the closet and dresses. He wanders over to Toriel’s home, not looking at the snow falling from the sky. It passes right through Frisk, but they take care to notice it for the both of them.

Frisk talks to everyone they pass, giving offhand advice or compliments. Their voice is strong and steady now, and is often saying “Sans…” followed by something he would like to hear. They speak more, because no one speaks back.

Everyone came. The Christmas tree was up, the lights on, and everyone just looked so...happy. Papyrus had traded his dark clothing for lighter shades, his scowl for a smile. Mettaton took liberties with his body to make it more fitting for his personality, with the help of the now quiet and reserved Alphys. It seemed only Undyne kept her loud, abrasive personality. Sans stepped in, looking the most changed out of all of them with his tired eyes and empty smile.

Frisk would have been happy with all the changes, if not for the last one. They were once again left breathless with how much pain they felt for Sans. They wished he would let someone help him, anyone. Toriel would, with her now constant but kind worry. Papyrus wanted to, with his belief he could fix anything. Frisk…

Frisk still believed that this was the right choice.

The party was beautiful. Sans got something for everyone, something everyone wanted. Everyone got him things as well, but almost all of them missed the mark. Another splinter of pain wedged itself into Frisk’s heart, because Sans had cut himself so far off that no one even knew him anymore. Toriel got him a joke book though, and for a second, Frisk swore that it looked like Sans actually lit up, just as bright as the SAVE on his chest.

Later on, with most of them filled with eggnog, Toriel shooed the sober ones home and fixed up beds for the others. Sans stood to his feet, stretching until his bones popped. Toriel looked like she wanted to say something to him, but he just turned away, ignoring the frown on her face.

“We’re here for you, Sans.” She spoke softly, uncertain. “I just wished you’d let us show you kindness.”

Frisk was standing directly in front of Sans, could see how his face changed. His eyes went black, and suddenly they were back to the times when Sans would kill them on instinct, just for fun. All the pain was back. Frisk nearly screamed. They don’t why they stopped themselves, being on a plane that was different from the monsters.

“Just you like you showed her kindness?” His voice dropped low, angry. Frisk didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to get him to see that sometimes people have to experience kindness before they can give it. Toriel didn’t have a chance to respond before he teleported away.

They were back in the garden of flowers, snow filtering softly from the hole that lead to the aboveground. It looked pretty on the flowers, which didn’t wither or shrink from the cold. Sans fell to his knees, staring almost gently at the flowers.

“Knock knock.” Frisk said softly. Sans wasn’t going to look up, they knew.

But if he did, he’d be wearing that same grin as before they went blind. He would look at them like he already knew what they were going to say, but wanted Frisk to prove them wrong. _Who’s there, sweetheart?_

“Snow.” They sat down next to Sans, the closest they had ventured to him since touching him during Asgore’s speech. They didn’t want their spirit to hurt him. He sighed brokenly, deep in thought. Frisk wanted it so bad to get through to him, for him to realize that they were speaking. For him to realize they were there. They often wondered if this in between would be okay if only Sans knew they were here. If only they could speak to someone.

But before, before, he would have tilted his head back, trying to puzzle out what Frisk was going to say next. _Snow who?_

Frisk smiled sadly, just wanting to be held. Just wanting for both of them to be free. “‘S- _k_ now it’s time to let me go, Sans.” He didn’t respond, they knew he wouldn’t. But, but, he did reach up ever so slow to grasp tightly at the SAVE star, as if it could save both of them.


End file.
